


All the things we leave unsaid

by Claudia_flies



Series: MCU Kink Bingo [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Alpha!Sebastian, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, MCU kink bingo 2017, Marathon Sex, Omega!Chris, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 15:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudia_flies/pseuds/Claudia_flies
Summary: Chris blames the costume department for that. Blames Judianna personally for that fucking red henley Sebastian is wearing right now.A summary: dicks. More dicks. Also asses and burritos.





	All the things we leave unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> I guess it’s tradition now. I popped my Stucky cherry with ABO, so doing the same with Evanstan. In case this needs to be said, this is not real, it’s not intended to be real, just me playing in the sandbox.
> 
> The author regrets everything, and admits to nothing.
> 
> This is for Zilia and Kajmere, the dirty, dirty enablers. 
> 
> Obviously greatly inspired by that ONE SCENE in the CW blooper reel.
> 
> For MCU Kink Bingo, square Marathon Sex.

 

 

Chris has always been able to pass, ever since puberty. He wasn’t that fussy about it. Close friends and family knew, of course. He dated around, low-key. Sometimes he’s surprised that there aren’t any rumors about him, but maybe he’s just been lucky. Taking friends to premiers and award shows, holding hands, passing. And then there was Jessica, who didn’t really want to talk about her own bisexuality in the business, so it worked for both of them.

He got interesting enough roles, even in the beginning, Betas, and Alphas, and maybe people just assumed. In his head, Johnny Storm was a total Omega, but he made sure to never say that out loud. But then Marvel came along and it became a thing. Cap is an Alpha. So now, it’s really only his agent and close family who know. Pretty much no one in LA knows except Scarlett, but she’s cool about it.

She’s cute and sharp and gets those brilliant Omega roles. She’s not militant and has never even hinted that Chris shouldn’t pass, should come out; they’ve both been in the business too long. Both know how things work. She covered for him when he miscalculated his heat days on the set of the first Avengers.

After that whole debacle, he’s been diligent with his days and scheduling. Gets his agent to negotiate leave time before he even signs on the dotted line.

He’s gonna be on the red-eye out of Atlanta tonight and off to LA for nine days. Nine glorious days of California burritos (gotta love that heat calorie burn) and his little box of toys. He’s gonna need all of them, stuff himself full.

He blames the costume department for that. Blames Judianna personally for that fucking red henley Sebastian is wearing right now.

He’s also blaming Anthony and Joe. Why, oh why did they have to schedule the water tank just before Chris’ leave? (He knows why, it’s because he’s going on leave and it fit the scheduling, so he should really be blaming himself, but he’s conveniently ignoring that.)

Finally, he’s blaming Sebastian. Sebastian, who was cute and oh, so attractive during Cap One. Chris flirted, just a little bit, couldn’t help himself. Sebastian had smiled at him, a bit shy, and trying to get to know everyone.

When they came back for Winter Soldier, Chris had to tamp down on his baser urges of asking Sebastian to bend him over while wearing all that leather and kevlar. But he resisted, he was good. Just went home and stuffed himself with his Tantus Zing butt plug and jerked off ‘till he couldn’t see straight.

And now; now Sebastian looks ridiculous. He looks like he could bench-press Chris. Could wrap those meaty arms around Chris’ thighs and roughly shove him into the wall of his trailer and … yeah, he’s got his box of toys waiting. That’s what he needs to keep thinking while Sebastian is submerged into a tank of water and that red henley, which was clearly invented by the devil, clings wetly to his muscles.

“Alright, Chris, you can get in now as well. We’ll do the final light check!”

Chris nods to the production assistant, and slides into the water. It’s tepid, not hot but not uncomfortably cold either. He could use a little cold right about now.

Sebastian smiles, his nose scrunching in that cute way that makes Chris’ belly flop around like he’s some kind of a teenage high school girl mooning after the quarterback.

When they set up the shot, Sebastian’s leaning against him in the water, their wet shirts rucking up between them. It takes Chris a couple of takes to notice the ache in his nipples. How hard they are, how they’re pressing against Sebastian’s back, the way Sebastian’s sliding against him every time they rise to the surface.

And now that he’s noticed, he can’t un-notice it. He tries to pull back, put some distance between them, but then: “Chris, can you get closer, hold him to your chest like you’re a lifeguard!”

And now he’s back to blaming Joe again.

He loses count of the takes, of the times they plunge down and up again, but this time Sebastian kicks up with him. The force of it presses him against Chris’ chest even more as they surface and he can’t help the whimper that escapes him.

“You okay?”

Sebastian sounds worried.

“Yeah, cool. Starting to prune up a bit.”

He smiles, makes it into a joke.

“I know, man. After this, you, me and craft service. I bet they still have those doughnuts.”

“The evil doughnuts that they taunt us with?”

“Those are the ones.”

The doughnuts are banned on both of their meal plans, but Sebastian’s stolen the box a few times and they’ve eaten all of them hiding in Chris’ trailer. Those few times had also led to some doughnut-filled fantasies. Not his proudest moment.

Then they’re back on with another take. Chris manages to hold the whimper in this time when Sebastian rubs against him.

Ultimately it’s probably due to the water that he doesn’t notice. Because of the general discomfort of the wet jeans.

They’re swimming around between takes, floating in the water while the grips set up another set of lights. Chris kicks his legs and suddenly with the shift of fabric feels it, that ache, that rush of blood around his asshole. He wants to yelp and press his legs together, but the only thing he can do at that moment is to swim to the edge of the tank and press his ass into the plastic side, desperately hoping that the smell of chlorine is enough to cover him even with Sebastian so near.

Chris curses left, right and center as he finally drives to the serviced apartment where he’s living in Atlanta during the shoot at the end of the day. It’s a really nice apartment. Luxurious and set up in a nice gated community. Sebastian and Mackie have places there too. Makes it feel like a bit of a community; sometimes they hang at Mackie’s place with beers and the 1970s movies that Sebastian seems to be obsessed with.

He parks in the structure and luckily sees no one between the parking lot and his front door. It’s easier once he gets inside, he feels less exposed, slightly less panicked. He strips in the bathroom, haphazardly throwing his clothes on the tiled floor. Eases his fingers between his own butt cheeks, pressing down over his hole which feels wet and puffy already. He’s pretty much in full-on pre-heat already. Scenting all over the place. He can feel the itch on his neck and behind his ears. This portion is all about attracting a suitable mate. He can’t take the red-eye now, he can’t even leave the apartment. Shit. Shit. _Shit._

Chris is so _fucked_. Or not fucked, as the case is right now. He looks at the small butt plug in his wash bag forlornly. It’s not going to be doing much for him. Instead of dwelling on his awful predicament, Chris showers, cleaning the scent off himself as much as possible, but he knows it’s a futile fight at this point in the cycle.

He’s just pulled on a pair of sweats and a ratty t-shirt when there’s a loud knock on the door and Chris full-on panics, jumping into the bedroom like an idiot, peering from the doorway at the front door.

And then things get so much worse.

“Chris, Chris, you in? It’s Sebastian!”

Chris buries his face in his hands, begging for mercy, for salvation, for anything, but clearly, no higher power is listening, because Sebastian just keeps hollering.

“I wanted to check you’re okay?!”

There’s another knock and then blessed silence for a moment. Then Chris’ phone starts to ring. His phone which is on the small table by the front door. Where Sebastian on the other side of said door can clearly hear it.

“Hey, Seb!”

He picks up the phone, rejecting the call. Shouting through the door, which seems silly and juvenile.

“I’m okay!”

“You wanna let me in, man?”

No, no he really doesn’t want to. Chris wants to crawl under the bed and hide until the one Alpha he’s been crushing on near-on five years leaves him alone. Sebastian just sounds confused.

“Chris, I’m getting real worried here.”

He leans against the side table, phone in hand, scenting the hallway so badly that Sebastian’s going to start smelling it through the door soon. Probably.

“Okay, okay.”

He can trust Sebastian. He’s a cool guy, or so Chris hopes. Slowly, he opens the door. Chris can see the exact moment when Sebastian scents him. His nostrils flex and his eyes widen.

“Chris? What?” Sebastian’s eyes are wide, surprised, but not disgusted, so at least there’s that.

“You wanna come in?”

Sebastian nods and Chris closes the door quickly behind him. Leaving them standing in Chris’ entrance hall staring at each other.

“Chris.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a…”

“Yeah,” he says miserably. “I was supposed to be on a flight to LA tonight, but it’s early.”

Sebastian’s nodding, rubbing his hands over his jeans pockets.

“Okay, so we gotta get you to LA somehow, right?”

Chris just shrugs, he’s kind of given up on things at this point, but Sebastian brightens.

“Robert has a private jet, yeah? Maybe we could ask him?”

It’s a great idea, it really is, but Chris just shakes his head.

“He doesn’t know. You know – about me.”

“Okay, well, maybe I could go! And bring you whatever you need from LA here.”

Chris kind of wants to cry. He’s embarrassed and horny and uncomfortable and Sebastian is smelling so, so good in the tight space of the hall.

“It’s not the stuff, it’s just being at home.”

He doesn’t want to say it out loud. It’s so old-fashioned. To want to nest during your heat. To want that comfort, but Sebastian seems to understand anyway.

“Okay.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Is there anything I can get you? Anything that would help.”

Chris thinks of that sad little plug he has. He’s embarrassed himself pretty well already so might as well go the whole hog.

“Uh, I, ah, I don’t have any of my toys here.”

“Okay, okay cool, I can get stuff for you.”

That’s how Chris ends up opening up Babeland.com on his phone and showing Sebastian the things that he’s probably going to need the most in the next week. Diligently, Sebastian writes everything down on his phone while they both still stand in the hall.

 

* * * *

 

Sebastian hopes that he doesn’t get papped going into Babeland in central Atlanta. And definitely not papped browsing the Omega section. If he does, at least he can hope that the gossip headlines will be about him and Scarlett. Or maybe about him and Liz, but they have so few scenes together that their schedules barely overlap.

Maybe. Hopefully.

He looks at his phone and then at the selection of plugs lining the shelves. After five minutes of looking, he finally finds the one Chris had wanted. It’s pretty big, smooth black silicone with a remote control, and it’s expensive as fuck. Not that Sebastian cares; that plug could be a million bucks and he would still fucking buy it for Chris.

He tries not to think of Chris laid out on his bed easing the plug in. How he’d whine at the stretch, maybe pant a little bit. How wet he’d be… _yeah, okay_. He should stop thinking about that now. Like right now. He shoves the fancy-ass plug into the mesh bag the girl at the entrance gave him and moves along.

Next stop. Dildos.

He looks up the brand and the name of the toy Chris wanted and keeps looking. Finds it pretty quickly, probably one of the more popular toys as it has its own stand. It’s not huge. Sebastian picks up the package and tries to not to compare it to himself as he drops it into the mesh bag.

(He’s a bit bigger, thank you very much!)

Finally, he looks for the nipple clamps Chris wanted. When even after 10 minutes he can’t find them, he pulls out his phone, tapping out a quick text.

**I don’t think they have the clamps you wanted :(**

The little writing icon goes in and out for a few minutes until Chris finally responds.

**Can you get something similar?**

Crap. That means talking to someone. He’ll just have to hope for the discretion of the Babeland employee. Or maybe not getting recognized. The Bucky-hair and stubble do sometimes throw people off, strangely. He manages to find a small, brunette Omega at the back of the store. It doesn’t look like she knows who he is when he approaches, and Sebastian allows himself a mental sigh of relief.

“Hey, do you have anything similar to these?”

He shows her the clamps on his phone. The girl looks at them for a moment, enlarges the picture and hums under her breath.

“Let me take a look. I think those ones have been discontinued, but let me look if I can find you something similar.”

She browses the shelves for a moment, until she pulls out two different sets of clamps. Both look fairly high end. One set comes with small weights.

“I think these two would be the closest we’ve got. These ones are a bit softer, so maybe try them out?”

He thanks her profusely and takes both of them, not bothering to look at the price tags. Whatever Chris needs.

When he gets back to his rental car he has to adjust himself, giving his cock a warning squeeze as he starts the engine. He can’t stop imagining Chris on all fours, with a vibrating plug in his ass and clamps on his nipples, begging Sebastian to fuck him.

It’s not like this is his first time imagining Chris, just that it’s the first time he’s thinking of Chris in heat, Chris wet and begging. Sebastian’s been comfortable with his bisexuality for a long time. It’s not something he talks about, but he’s dated around, and he’d fancied Chris ever since the first table read.

He takes a detour via Price Chopper on the way back to the apartment complex. Gets Gatorade, soda water, snacks of all kinds, bread, cold cuts and cheese (Chris might want sandwiches later), a few bags of apples and bananas, and then stops to pick up a box of doughnuts near the checkout as well. They’re not the same ones that craft service has, but close enough.

Then he heads to Chipotle across the road, because he's a basic bitch. Orders four burritos, a large set of tacos, and he even gets them to make a couple of quesadillas for him off the secret menu and then gets a massive bag of tortilla chips and five tubs of guac to go.

There’s a small part of his brain that’s telling him that Chris might not appreciate all the food, that he could be coming across as way overbearing, but that part is being steamrolled by the Alpha part of his brain clamoring to _feed the Omega!_

The drive from Chipotle isn’t long and Chris lets him in after the first knock. He still smells delicious and ripe, but Sebastian is resolutely ignoring that. That’s not what Chris needs from him right now. He lays down all the bags and turns to explain about the food, but Chris is already elbow-deep in the Chipotle bag, pulling out a burrito, licking his lips.

“Oh man, Seb, how the fuck did you know!?”

Then he tears off the top of the foil and dives in like a starving man, taking two huge bites and then smiling widely with his mouth full. Sebastian can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, gross, man!”

Chris pulls out the tacos and lays them on the table with the chips and guac tubs, motioning for Sebastian to tuck in. He was planning on heading out as soon he’d given Chris the toys, but it would be rude to leave now, so he twists open a soda and helps himself to some tacos.

Once they’ve demolished the tacos and Sebastian starts to look for his phone and car keys, Chris grunts and shoves the doughnut box in his direction, and what the hell, one won’t hurt. The same thing repeats with a bag of chips, an apple, and a banana until Sebastian starts to notice a pattern.

He reaches for his keys, testing, and Chris almost in sync, reaches for another Price Chopper bag strewn on the table.

“Chris, do you not want me to leave?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Sebastian knows he’s made a terrible mistake. Chris’ whole body freezes and the goofy smile drops off his face like a stone. Sebastian wants to smooth that worried frown off from between his eyebrows with his thumb, but before he can say or do anything, Chris is already in motion.

“No, oh my god. Of course, you need to head off. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

Chris sounds so apologetic, and then he’s getting up and starts grabbing the Chipotle bags still strewn all over the table.

“Do you want me to box these for you? You got so much. You should take some.”

“Chris, wait – Chris. That’s not – that’s not what I meant.”

He tries to reach out, fingers grazing over Chris’ elbow. Not wanting to crowd Chris, but wanting to touch.

“I just, if you want me to stay, I can stay.”

But Chris is just shaking his head, keeping his eyes resolutely on the bags.

“No, it’s okay. You came here like hours ago! I’m sure you have stuff to do!”

He’s trying to smile and it’s the most heartbreaking expression Sebastian has seen on anyone, ever.

“Chris. Chris, hey, it’s okay.”

He grabs a hold of Chris’ impossibly wide shoulders and spins him around.

“I’d rather be nowhere but here, okay?”

Chris’s shoulders relax a fraction and he’s looking at Sebastian beneath his brows. Assessing.

“Look, do you want to watch a movie? I can head off once the heat gets properly underway, yeah?”

Chris nods, slightly placated and rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand.

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

They could settle on the couch, they really could, but Sebastian sees all the blankets and pillows and everything else Chris has piled on the bed. Can now read better the short, little looks Chris throws towards the bed as he’s loading up Netflix. So Sebastian takes a risk, flopping down on the pile of soft things with a grunt and sigh, and is rewarded with a little smile until Chris turns his focus back on the TV and the Netflix menu.

They get through a few episodes of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt before Chris starts to fidget. Sebastian can smell the heat in the room, has been able to scent it from the first moment Chris opened the door, really. He’s been with a few Omegas during their heats and knows the drill.

“You wanna get the plug on?”

Chris goes bright red instantaneously, stiffening where he’s lying against Sebastian’s side.

“Uh…no, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Just that you know, I don’t mind if you do. It’s totally natural.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Chris is nodding, but not moving, bright red and eyes glued to the screen, and Sebastian lets the topic drop. They watch another episode with Chris fidgeting throughout the whole thing, squirming like there’s ants in his pants. Eventually, Sebastian can’t take it anymore.

“Alright?”

“Uh, yeah. I could…I mean, I might want it. The plug. Now.”

Sebastian is pretty sure that his higher brain functions are not involved in what comes out of his mouth next.

“You want any help?”

Chris freezes, but before Sebastian can utter his horrified apologies, Chris just sighs “yeah.” He sounds so grateful, the way he leans back into the cushions, looking up at Sebastian with so much trust. The same level of trust they’d been sharing on the training mats and on those super high rigs with cameras panning around as they fought.

“Alright, just give me a sec.”

He crawls out of the bed and picks up the Babeland bag off the dining table. It’s buried under the debris of Chipotle and the donut box. He goes to the bathroom and washes the plug in the bathroom sink. It feels weighty in his hands, solid with a nice thick bulb and a flared base, perfect for pressing with your thumb, just in the middle.

He looks at himself in the mirror.

_You listen to yourself Stan, you are not going to fuck your co-star. He is vulnerable and he’s trusting you here and you are not that guy. Don’t go and be that guy._

When he gets out of the bathroom, he nearly comes in his pants.

Chris has taken off both his sweatpants and underwear. He on the bed in just his t-shirt. _Kneeling_. His back is to Sebastian with his feet right under his butt, knees spread apart. The position makes his ass cheeks spread out just a tiny bit, teasing a view of his slick, puckered hole.

Then he turns, looking at Sebastian over his shoulder, and Sebastian really, really doesn’t want to be that guy, but it’s _really_ hard right now.

“You can…can you lie down…on your belly.”

Chris just nods. Easing to lie down on the bed, with more forethought than Sebastian can muster, he shuffles a few pillows under his hips, lifting his ass up enticingly, which makes it even worse.

_You are not that guy, Stan._

Sebastian takes a deep breath and climbs over Chris’s legs to straddle his calves. Chris has spread out his thighs and Sebastian can just barely see the pink, tight ring of his anus between his legs. He tries to clear his throat, to say something.

“I’m gonna touch you now, okay?”

“Yeah” is muffled into the covers.

Chris’ skin feels hot under his palms as Sebastian runs his hands from the back of his knees up to the crease of Chris’ butt. He can smell the slick, heady and musky. See the slippery trails of it glistening between Chris’s legs clearly now. He starts softly, just pressing his thumbs into the muscles of Chris’ thighs, working up and down.

“This okay?”

“Yeah,” again muffled into the covers, but there’s a hint of a whine at the end that Sebastian resolutely tells his dick to ignore. He’s harder than he’s been in, well, maybe ever. The base of his dick aching where his knot wants to pop. Instead, he concentrates on Chris’s legs for a while, the long and short heads of the biceps femoris. The shot muscles of his inner thighs. Gracilis, the voice of their combat trainer says in his head. Mouthing the Latin words.

He doesn’t touch Chris’ ass, not yet, just moves his hands up to the dip of his back. Pushing up the hem of Chris’ t-shirt.

It was one of his exes that taught him how to do this. They used to get the worst pre-heat cramping and the only thing that would work was massages in bed. It would usually lead to some pretty amazing marathon sex, but Sebastian is adamant that he’ll be keeping it in his pants this time. No matter what his dick might be thinking right now. This isn’t about him.

Sebastian works over Chris’ back, his obliques, down the iliac crest, and up from his tailbone, thumbs pressing into the space on both sides of his spine, counting down the vertebrae. Chris makes the most delightful noises, huffs and quiet moans, gentle little whines when something feels particularly good.

Finally, Sebastian lets himself cup Chris’ ass. It’s the perfect handful and Sebastian works his palms over the sides where Chris’ back muscles connect to his gluteus, pressing in on those points that Sebastian knows get tight and sore with their training schedule.

He holds his thumbs over Chris’ tailbone, just letting his palms rest over the swell of Chris’ ass, fingers in the dip of his lower back, warming the skin there. Chris lets out a long, low whine and spreads his legs even more. Rubbing his feet against Sebastian’s thighs. It feels like an invitation, a permission, but he has to ask.

“This okay?”

Chris hums, nodding, his face pressed into the sheets, fists clenched around the fabric. He’s arching his back, almost presenting with the way his knees are pulled in and wide.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Sebastian presses his thumbs in, trailing them down the cleft of Chris’ ass, spreading those muscles apart with his palms as he goes. Chris gives a little shout when Sebastian’s thumbs press over his wet hole, but Sebastian doesn’t linger, sliding down over Chris’ perineum, all the way until he’s touching the base of his balls.

Chris is working himself up on his knees more, spreading them wider, pressing his ass into Sebastian’s fingers. His breath is hitching in that _in-in-out_ pattern as he moves, and then suddenly, he’s presenting properly, and Sebastian tells his hindbrain to not take it as an invitation.

Instead, he presses his thumbs into the flushed and slick skin of Chris’ taint. Focusing on Chris, on Chris’ pleasure. Small, tight circles until he hears the tell-tale catch in Chris’ breathing, sees the tight curl of his toes in the sheets.

_Jackpot._

Sebastian then concentrates on that area, working around it until Chris wiggles his butt, and then rewards him with a hard press right into his prostate. Massaging until Chris is moaning, intelligible words and curses. Eventually, he lets his fingers wander upwards towards Chris’ leaking and swollen hole. He can feel Chris trembling under his hands, the way he’s eagerly arching his back, then a quiet, almost hesitant “please.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

A request like that should be rewarded. So Sebastian presses down with his thumbs over the soaked furl of skin, feeling it contract and open under the pads of his fingers. Moving and working with the motions of Chris’ hips, massaging that tight ring and not pushing in until he can feel the give, be sure that Chris is opening up for him. Making sure he isn’t hurting Chris.

He presses in with his index and forefingers, no teasing this time, giving Chris what he needs, what he’s begging for with the curve of his back.

Chris is hot and wet, and Sebastian curls his fingers, seeking, teasing the tender walls of Chris’ insides. Twisting and spreading and crossing his fingers to work out what Chris likes the best. His other thumb still working steadily over the fat little flush of Chris’s perineum. Other hand resting over the swell of Chris’ buttock, keeping him spread open for Sebastian’s fingers.

Chris’ breath is hitching properly now on every inhale, nearly a sob into the sheets as he fucks back into the fingers inside of him. Sebastian can feel the tension radiating from his body, the way his back is arched, ass up.

“Do you need to come?”

Chris just nods, face pressed into the bed. The back of his neck is bright red.

“Yeah, you can come. Chris, it’s okay.”

Chris uncurls his right hand from the sheets, leaving an impression of his fingers in the fabric. Works his palm under his own body, pressing his knees into the mattress as he grasps his cock, shoving the pillows away as he starts to jerk it, harsh and tight.

It only takes a few pulls. Sebastian presses down with his thumb and spreads his fingers, giving Chris something to clench down on, and he does so beautifully. His asshole contracting around Sebastian’s fingers like a vice. Chris makes almost no noise, just harsh wet breaths into the sheets, still hiding his face.

Sebastian lets him rest, waits for his muscles to relax and sink down into the bed again, and then pulls the plug from under his leg where he’s been keeping it warm. He teases the tapered tip against Chris’ now-loose hole, before pressing it in with a smooth thrust.

Chris bellows into the pillows, swear words and hitched moans, and Sebastian can only watch enthralled as Chris’ hole contracts around the plug like he’s milking it. His whole body trembling. Sebastian crawls up the bed to lie next to Chris, letting himself admire the long line of his body, the pretty flush of his skin. He pulls Chris to him, against his chest, lets him curl into Sebastian’s body, rubbing a comforting hand down the line of Chris’ spine over his t-shirt. The fabric is damp with sweat.

 

* * * *

 

Chris’ entire body is humming like a struck bell, the pounding of blood in his asshole as he clenches around the heavy, solid weight of the plug. Sebastian feels so good next to him, the spicy scent of him, the steady beat of his heart under Chris’ cheek. Comforting and secure. He tries to calm his hitching breaths, tries to act cool and collected when he’s nothing but.

Sebastian had helped Chris back into his sweatpants, then pulled him into his side again. It feels different, different to the other heats spent in LA or even before that in Boston. He hasn’t let anyone stay with him, not since Jessica, and that had been different, being with another Omega, it hadn’t been anything like this.

Sebastian’s arm is a steady pressure around him, grounding, and Chris tries to covertly snuggle even closer, but Sebastian seems to notice anyway, his arm tightening over Chris’ back, pulling him in, tight into the side of his body.

Sebastian loads up a nature program or something on Netflix, Chris isn’t really paying much attention to it. Something about penguins in the Arctic. He yawns against Sebastian’s chest, both tired and wired from the heat.

Suddenly the plug roars into life inside him, making Chris twitch, clench down harder. Fighting to not moan out loud. Sebastian looks totally engrossed by the penguins waddling on the TV. But Chris can see him holding the small black remote, casually, just leaning it against his leg, his thumb resting over the buttons. Chris can’t help but whine quietly at the quiet possessiveness of that simple gesture.

Chris’ dick is pressed into the side of Sebastian’s hip. He’s hard again, aching, but for once it feels good, purposeful. He can’t help but rut a little bit into Sebastian. The low rumblings of the toy in his ass, the heavy weight of it on his prostate. The line of Sebastian’s body flush with his own, the scent of them permeating the air and Chris’s bed. He imagines sleeping here for weeks, wrapped in Sebastian’s scent, remembering this.

Chris reaches out from where he’s resting over Sebastian’s chest. Running his fingers over the clear bulge of Sebastian’s cock, still trapped in his jeans. Sebastian arches into the touch, lets the remote drop on the bed, his hand coming to rest atop of Chris’ curious fingers.

“Chis. You don’t have to,” he says, voice low and rough.

“I want to,” Chris mumbles against his chest, but then his head catches up with him “...but if you don’t want me to…” and then he’s pulling his hands away. Careful.

Sebastian grabs his wrist, holding him tight.

“Shit, Chris. I want to, I really, really want you to. I just…I want to make you feel good, that’s all.”

Sebastian’s fingers scrape over the short hairs at the back of Chris’ head, petting him. It’s calming, the touch, the way Sebastian lets Chris’ fingers fall back against his fly, the bulge of his cock. From the corner of his eye, Chris sees him picking up the remote again and then the plug gears up another setting, making his toes curl.

Chris teases the top button of Sebastian’s jeans, before sliding it open, pulling the zip down slowly, revealing those white CK’s that Sebastian’s always been so fond of wearing and showing off. Running his knuckles over the shape of Sebastian’s dick that’s eagerly pressing out through the open fly.

The plug goes up another level, and Chris mouths the cotton of Sebastian’s t-shirt over his pecs, his mouth hungry. He wants to get fucked so bad, even with the plug doing a decent job of filling him up.

He can feel Sebastian’s hand moving down, rubbing over his lower back and then slipping into the waistband of his sweats, pressing down into the cleft of Chris’ ass. Then there’s a sneaky finger pressing down on the base of the plug, fucking Christ with it, slow and steady grind into his prostate.

“Fuck, Seb, I can’t…”

“Do you need to come?” Sebastian’s voice is rough, low, and Chris nods.

“Go ahead,” Sebastian says, fingers still pressing down on the plug.

Chris fumbles a bit with the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls his dick out. It only takes a few pulls and he’s coming into his hand and all over Sebastian’s jeans. He presses his face into Sebastian’s chest, biting his lips together to keep all the sounds in. All the filthy things he wants to moan out loud.

After, he lies there for a while, breathing in Sebastian’s scent, listening to the steady beat of his heart under Chris’ ear. Faintly embarrassed by his lack of staying power.

“You know, I’m not this fast on the draw on a normal day,” he says eventually.

Sebastian laughs, petting slowly over Chris’ back. “Yeah, I know. I’m not judging.”

Chris feels himself laugh too, smiling into the cotton of Sebastian’s shirt. Sneaking his hand down, he pulls, Sebastian’s dick out from his underwear. It’s huge, uncut and pink. He leans down and takes the head into his mouth.

Sebastian whole body tenses and he chokes out, “Chris. Fuck. Jesus.”

Then he fumbles his hands down and tries to help, pushing down his underwear under his balls. His knot already showing at the base of his dick, and Chris palms it hungrily, sucking on the head, teasing his tongue under the foreskin. Sebastian tastes bitter and salty, and Chris lets his cock slide deeper into his mouth, enjoying the bitten-off sounds Sebastian’s making.

Sebastian’s fingers have found their way back onto the base of the plug in his ass, rubbing and pressing it exactly where Chris needs, and he moans around the cock in his mouth. It feels so good, being filled, being held and taken care of. Sebastian’s other hand comes to pet his hair, not holding him down or even guiding him that much, just shaking fingers running through the short strands of hair at the back of his head again.

“Chris. That’s feels so good. Fuck, your mouth’s so fucking hot.”

He tries to take Sebastian deeper, letting the head into his throat a bit, squeezing the knot in his palm. He’s not very good at this, he thinks, but he wants to try, wants to make Sebastian feel good.

He feels gratified when Sebastian comes, catching some of the spunk in his mouth, some over his lips and chin and cheek, while Sebastian swears and calls out Chris’ name. When he looks up, Sebastian slides his thumb over Chris’s lip and his chin, guiding the finger into Chris’ mouth until he’s licked it clean, their eyes never leaving each other.

“I did buy you other things too.”

Sebastian is looking over to the messy table. Somewhere in that chaos is the Babeland bag. Chris must have moved as Sebastian looks down at him and grins, leaping off the bed. He chucks his dirty jeans on the floor and ambles over to the table.

Chris watches the shift of Sebastian’s back through the fabric of his t-shirt as he rummages through the bags. When he finally turns around he’s holding a box of nipple clamps, with a slow, dirty grin on his face.

Chris swallows with an audible click.

His nipples have always been sensitive, even out of heat. Today they’ve been rubbing against his shirt since that morning’s call time. He remembers the feel of Sebastian’s back in the water and shivers.

Sebastian crawls over him on the bed, pushing Chris onto his back into the rumpled sheets. Everything smells of them, the heady musk of his own heat, of mating. Sebastian’s pushing his way between Chris’ legs, spreading and pushing until they’re resting over Sebastian’s thighs; until Sebastian’s dick is pressing, right there between his legs. Hot and heavy through the fabric of his underwear and Chris’ sweats.

Sebastian slides his hands over and up Chris’ stomach, pushing his t-shirt up as he goes until the fabric is bunched under his armpits, his tight, pink nipples exposed to the air.

“So pretty,” Sebastian whispers, just before he lowers his head and takes Chris’ left nipple in his mouth.

Chris tries not to grunt, tries to stop his body arching into that wet heat, but isn’t particularly successful. Sebastian’s fingers are running over his exposed sides and Chris grinds his ass into the mattress, clenching around the plug.

Sebastian just hums and slides his lips from left to right, twisting the other between his fingers. Chris grinds his pelvis into Sebastian’s dick in response, trying to get him to get on with the program, brain muddled. _Why is he still wearing pants?_ Chris thinks, flexing his legs over Sebastian’s thighs, running his feet over Sebastian’s back.

After what feels like hours but is only probably minutes, Sebastian sits up and looks down on his handiwork. The tight red peaks of Chris’ nipples, wet from saliva. With a grin, he pulls the clamps from where he threw them in the sheets and takes them out of the packet.

When he clips them on, Chris whines, arches into the feeling, his nipples still wet from Sebastian’s mouth. The squeeze of the clamps is just right, exactly what he needs. Toes curling, heels pressing into Sebastian’s back. He’s half-humping against Sebastian’s crotch, trying to get more pressure on the base of the plug, stuttering out a desperate “please, Seb.”

Sebastian’s just petting his flank, leaning over him, warm and safe and there. Looking right at Chris with his blue eyes, smiling.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

There’s a silent _if you want to_ tagged on at the end. Chris looks up at him for a moment, hesitating, but then obeys. The clamps have little weights on them and they pull on his nipples, moving as he moves.

Sebastian’s hands are on his legs, pulling down his sweatpants, encouraging him to spread his stance winder, and then the plug buzzes into life again, and Chris can’t help the noise he makes. Somewhere between a shout and a sob. Sebastian’s hands wandering between his legs, playing with the plug and tugging gently on his balls. The constant pull and squeeze of his nipples. Chris rocks back and forth, overstimulated and out of his mind.

He hears Sebastian whisper “do you need to come?” right next to him, or maybe it’s not even a whisper, but blood is rushing in his ears so loud he can’t hear.

“Yes, yeah, please,” and Chris moves to grasp his cock again, but Sebastian is faster.

“No. Like this.” He presses Chris’ hand back on the mattress, holding him there, spread open. Chris can’t, he’s never, but the plug hits another level and Sebastian presses his knuckles into Chris’ perineum, trapping his prostate between Sebastian’s fingers and the plug.

Chris screams as he comes, rocking on his hands and knees.

He doesn’t know how long, but eventually, Sebastian eases him onto his side on the bed. The plug’s not vibrating anymore, but still a constant heavy presence inside him. It’s comforting in a way, but not what he really wants.

Sebastian unclips the nipple clamps, rubbing his nipples, rolling them between his fingers as blood rushes into Chris’ chest. He’s gentle, so gentle.

“You did so good, Chris. You looked so good,” he whispers, kissing Chris’ temple.

“Yeah?”

Chris’ voice is quiet, unlike him and he tries to cough, to clear his throat. Sebastian just nods, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Yeah. So good, Chris.”

He glows with the praise, with the relief of finally allowing himself to do this. He closes his eyes, just for a moment letting his brain quiet, sinking into the moment.

Chris wakes up disorientated, with his dick hard against the mattress. They must have dozed off, as Sebastian’s fast asleep next to him, still in his t-shirt and underwear.

Quietly, Chris rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom.

He leans against the wall of the shower cubicle under the hot water. His back and lower belly are aching, asshole pounding with need. He really wants to get knotted now; maybe asking Sebastian to stay was a bad idea. It’s going to make the rest of the few days even harder when he does eventually leave.

When he does eventually say ‘no’.

 

* * * *

 

Sebastian wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running. He reaches for his discarded pants and fishes his phone from the pocket.

It’s past 1 am.

He stretches and yawns but doesn’t feel too tired, which is indication enough that he’s overstayed his welcome. Chris’ heat is starting to trigger his own hormonal response. Ruts are nowhere near as intense as heats, but they come with their own set of delightful problems.

Sebastian is scanning the floor for his shirt when Chris comes out of the shower wearing a fresh t-shirt and briefs, but there’s no disguising his full-on heat scent now, not that there ever was. Not since Sebastian caught a whiff of it in the hallway.

Chris fidgets with the hem of his t-shirt; he’s wearing the same, sad expression he’d worn earlier in the evening, when he’d been thinking that Sebastian was leaving.

Sebastian can see him squaring his shoulders, the muscle tightening in his jaw, when Chris asks “you heading off?”

“Chris – I,” he sighs, left hand still clutching his crumpled jeans.

“It’s okay, I know it’s really late.”

And Chris is trying to smile, trying to put on that jovial mask. That of 6 am call times and still another go at a scene after fourteen hours on set already.

And Sebastian knows, has known for a long time. He doesn’t want to leave. Not now and not ever, so he asks it again.

“Do you not want me to go?”

Chris rubs his face with his hands, hiding himself for a brief moment, like he wasn’t expecting the question. When he finally looks at Sebastian his face is lonely and tired, no masks, no hiding.

“To be honest, not really. It’s been – good, really good having you here, I haven’t really done this before with – with someone else.”

“Oh,” is all Sebastian can say. _Well, isn’t that a gut punch and a half_ , he thinks, and continues “I can stay,” and then corrects himself instantly. “I want to stay.”

Chris brightens up, his face telegraphing a cautious sort of hope. “Yeah?“

“It’s just –” Sebastian mumbles. _Jesus, it shouldn't be this hard_. He takes another breath and finally gets the words out. “I’m starting to rut.”

The hormones and the adrenaline and the hypervigilance are always followed by a crash, and he doesn’t know if Chris is prepared for that. If Sebastian himself is, not that his call sheet is that busy in the next few days with Chris out of the schedule.

Chris is staring at him with wide, surprised eyes.

“Rut? Is that because – because of me?”

Sebastian shrugs, “well, yeah,” like it’s obvious.

“Is that bad?”

Sebastian laughs. “No, not really, I just wasn’t sure if you wanted that with – with me.”

Chris is nodding before he even finishes talking, walking towards the bed.

“Yeah, yes I,” then he suddenly blushes horribly. “I – I want to be knotted.”

Sebastian finds himself blushing too, clearing his throat, trying to sound blasé and failing miserably. “Okay, yeah, we can do that. You got condoms?”

Chris nods, pointing to the bedside drawer, and then he’s climbing into the bed, pulling his t-shirt over his head. His nipples are still hard, dusky pink from the hot shower, and maybe from the clamps too, and Sebastian can’t help but reach out to rub his thumbs over them. Chris moans, arching into the touch.

“Fuck, Seb, yeah.”

Sebastian shoves Chris’ underwear down his legs at the same time as Chris is trying to tug Sebastian’s t-shirt over his head. Eventually, with much cursing and several crossed arms and legs, they’re both naked.

It’s glorious, both of them finally skin to skin and Chris pressed into him from top to tail. Face buried tight into Sebastian’s shoulder, lips moving over the skin, shyly making his way toward the scent glands behind Sebastian’s ear.

He’s gotta make this good for Chris, it doesn’t matter that it’s probably not Sebastian specifically he wants. He just happens to be here. Sebastian doesn’t want to think what would’ve happened if it had been another Alpha knocking on Chris’ door instead. He’s here now, and it’s only him, and Chris, and the soft low hum Chris makes as Sebastian runs his hands down Chris’ spine.

He presses his fingers between Chris’ ass cheeks, feeling the wetness at his hole, his fingertips sliding over the swollen rim. Chris moans into his shoulder, hiking his leg up and over Sebastian’s hip, giving him more room, stretching himself open.

It’s so easy to sink a finger, or two, into Chris’ body. To feel the heat and wetness of him, the sweet way he’s opening up, pushing back on Sebastian’s fingers, panting for more.

“Please, oh god, please, Seb. Fuck!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

He rolls Chris onto his side and eases himself up to sitting. Snatching all the pillows still on the bed into a huge pile, then yanking the few that had fallen on the floor on top of his pile too, and then arranges Chris on top on his belly. Sliding his hands over Chris’ biceps and the back of his hands to guide Chris to hold the headboard. He goes easy, melting into the pillows where Sebastian's placed him.

“Just like this,” he praises, looking at the elegant slope of Chris’ back. The muscles working over his shoulders. Chris’ legs are spread and his ass is on display where he now rests on top of the pillow mountain. Sebastian catches himself leaning over and kissing Chris’ shoulders, mouthing the sweat gathered on his skin. He grabs Chris’ hands, still over the headboard, interlacing their fingers, breathing encouragements and praise into Chris’ neck.

It’s so easy to shift between Chris’ spread-out legs, to press himself over Chris’ back, dick sliding into the cleft of his ass. It’s so easy and natural and Sebastian has to remind himself what this is, and what it isn’t. There’s no happy ending here for him, no coming-out spread in People magazine, no spring wedding. He bites his lips and presses his forehead between Chris’ shoulder blades, giving himself a moment to breathe.

_Keep your head in the game, Stan._

He squeezes Chris’ hands and feels an answering squeeze back. Sebastian’s hips twitch and the tip of his cock catches the edge of Chris’ hole. Chris’ moan is near-on obscene. “Please, please, please,” he chants, arching his hips, the muscles of his thighs bunching up against Sebastian’s legs.

He slides his hand between them, thumbs the edge of Chris’ hole, stretches him open and guides the head of his cock inside.

Chris is hot and wet and tight, already milking him, his body so primed that Sebastian can’t help but thrust all the way in. Chris is bucking under him, returning each thrust, his hips arching against Sebastian’s pelvis. Totally in sync. Moaning Sebastian’s name, loud now where he was quiet before.

Sebastian doesn’t let himself think it. That it feels more like making love now than just heat-fucking. The way Chris is grunting his name each time his knot pushes past his rim, the low vibration of his voice, wrecked and guttural. So he doesn’t bite back his words, lets himself say them. At least some of them.

“Fuck, Chris, you’re so good, so wet for me, so open. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah?”

It breaks his heart that it’s a question, the hesitation there.

“Yeah, so perfect.”

He kisses Chris’ shoulder, nuzzles up to scent gland behind his ear, runs his teeth over it, and is rewarded with a high whine. If he wasn’t so overwhelmed by pleasure Sebastian would be ashamed at how quickly his knot swells, how quickly he’s on the edge of coming.

Chris is panting, “yes, fuck yes, please I’m gonna come. Shit! Seb!” And then he feels the tightening of Chris’ channel around his cock, the tight squeeze on his knot.

Chris buries his face in the pillows as he comes, grunting and panting. His knuckles white where he’s squeezing the headboard and Sebastian’s fingers, and Sebastian lets go. Coming with a pained moan, his knot swelling and locking in place. He rocks into Chris, working his knot over Chris’ prostate, making him come again or maybe just stretching out his orgasm.

Chris is moaning into the pillows, hips twitching and his legs kicking out. Sebastian presses him tight into the bed, wraps his arms around Chris’ middle, keeping them pressed tightly together.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Chris’ breath hitches. “Just–ah, haven’t felt this before–Jesus, you’re huge. Fuck,” and he buries his face back into the pillows, groaning.

Sebastian smiles, pleased, can’t help himself. Burying his face against Chris’ back. He can feel the tight contractions of Chris’ ass around him, milking him. The moment feels longer than it probably is, time stretched out like taffy. Both of them connected, breath in sync, bodies locked together, neither of them in a hurry to be anywhere else. Chris’ scent in his nose and his steady heartbeat in his ear where he rests against Chris’ back.

It does end eventually, like everything does, Sebastian’s knot going down and Chris’ ass relaxing enough to let him pull out.

He should leave, should get his stuff and let Chris sleep. It’s an excuse, he knows. He’s trying to protect himself, to not wake up to a rumpled, well-fucked Chris and his mellowed scent. All of his good intentions fly out of the window when Chris turn and grabs his hip.

“Don’t go,” he mumbles, sounding already half-asleep, and Sebastian lets himself be pulled back into the bed and under the covers. Lets himself wrap Chris in his arms and breathe in his scent.

Lets himself pretend just for now.

 

* * * *

 

Chris wakes up with his face smushed into Sebastian’s armpit, and then the entirety of the past 24 hours slams into him. The heat. The Sex. Sebastian. Oh God. Sebastian trying to leave several times.

He tries to slowly shift away, but Sebastian grunts and palms over Chris’ shoulders possessively, pulling him back into place against his side. Then he mumbles, “fuck the call time.”

Chris peeks up from under his lashes. Sebastian’s hair is all over the place, standing up on end over the top of his head. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open a bit. He’d been snoring a little, Chris thinks. Then he’s opening his eyes and smiling sleepily, but as he turns to look at Chris that smile slowly falters.

Chris’ insides go cold when Sebastian pulls away, sitting up. “Uh, sorry, didn’t mean to–.” He makes a grabby hand gesture.

“No, no it’s fine, totally okay Seb!” Chris tries to placate, not sure how to ask him to lie back down, or if he even should be asking that.

Sebastian runs his hands through his hair, messing it up even worse. “I guess I should–.” He nods towards his crumpled jeans on the floor.

“Yeah,” Chris agrees sadly, “I’m sorry for having kept you, man.”

Sebastian visibly swallows, but doesn’t say anything, just gets out of bed and starts to mechanically dress. Chris feels like there’s a pit opening up in his stomach.

He should – he should be doing a lot of things. He missed his flight last night, so he should book another one for today. Head over to LA for the remainder of his downtime. Now that the heat’s been sated he doesn’t know what to do with himself, fidgeting as he watches Sebastian dress.

“Okay, so, I guess I’ll see you around,” Sebastian shrugs, not really looking at Chris.

He feels the distance growing between them already, strained and painful. He can’t let it end like this. “Seb, wait–.” He’s gotta fix this before Sebastian leaves, before nine days of not seeing each other and letting this fester.

Sebastian just shakes his head sadly. “Chris, don’t worry, it’s okay.”

“No, please, wait. I’m so sorry, Seb.” He’s scampering out of bed now, looking for his sweatpants.“Chris–,” Sebastian tries to interrupt as Chris finally spots the offending garment by the edge of the bed and pulls them hastily on.

“No, let me finish!”

Sebastian shuts his mouth with an audible click. Chris runs his hands through his hair, probably messing it up even worse.

“I’m really sorry I pulled you into this, and didn’t let you leave when you wanted to. I was out of my head and I never meant to trap you like that. It was a shitty thing to do.”

Sebastian is staring at him, his mouth open in a perfect O. They stare at each other in silence for a long stretched-out minute.

“What?” Sebastian then asks, and then repeats himself. “Chris, what the fuck?”

“You were so kind, and I’m so sorry,” Chris finishes lamely, knowing that it’s not nearly enough to fix whatever's gone between them.

“Chris, man, I’m like in love with you,” Sebastian says, and Chris feels his legs just give out under him. He sits back down on the bed with a thump, staring at Sebastian.

“What?”

Sebastian is now squirming under his gaze, not meeting his eyes.

“You didn’t trap me or anything, shit, Chris, I’ve liked you for a long time, man.”

Chris feels himself starting to smile, he can’t help himself. Can’t help the grin spreading on his face right there and then.

“Well, that’s pretty fucking convenient ‘cause I’ve been crushing on you since Cap One.”

 

 

**Six months later.**

 

 

Chris has been just pottering around most of the day. He’s at least gotten dressed even if it’s just sweatpants and a t-shirt. Dodger seems equally unwilling to do anything, just migrating around the living room chasing the moving sunbeam, curling up to sleep in the heat. Chris had had to pester him just to go out to pee.

He’s waiting for the GrubHub guy to come and drop off his burritos, and checking the fridge for the umpteenth time.

He’s not nervous, not at all.

It’s just a coincidence that he checks his phone and re-reads the _just landed, getting an uber_ text message, trying to calculate the time from LAX with traffic.

Dodger springs up when the doorbell goes. Chris checks the entry camera, expecting the delivery guy, but instead, he sees a familiar silhouette standing by the gate. He buzzes the gate open with a giddy smile he can’t seem to shake.

And then just seconds later Sebastian is at his door, holding an overnight bag. He shifts and lifts up a paper bag with his other hand. It has the Babeland logo embossed on the side, and then Sebastian smirks, knowingly.

“I got you some presents.”


End file.
